An English Instructor’s Confession

Doubt the amount of debt to past poetic lives I owe, doubt a preening, narcistic ego,
Doubt that I may be a self-conscious liar, exaggerating stories that never did transpire,
Doubt that I may long for fame, craving the recognition a great novelist or poet gains.
Doubt that I have the intellectual skills, the depth of passion, or the imagery that thrills.
But never doubt whatever transpires, I can teach rhet.-comp. students all skills required.
Never doubt the hours spent marking pronoun disagreement and student discontent,
For I will not exaggerate, nightly I’m always home grading stacks of papers by 7:30 or 8.

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